[GOD08] The Lost Gentleman

by Margaret McPhee

  ‘Amen to that,’ said Jenkins.

  ‘What were you thinking of, admitting us?’ demanded Kit. ‘You know the drill when it comes to pestilence.’

  Jenkins smiled again and this time it held a bit of a leer. ‘Hammond said you had a woman with you. A white woman. An English woman.’ His gaze travelled brazenly down Kate Medhurst’s body to rest on the small bare toes that peeped out beneath the hem of her dress.

  In a prim angry gesture she twitched her skirt to cover them. ‘American,’ she corrected with a look of disgust that Kit could not tell whether it was due to Jenkins’s appetite or the fact he had mistaken her as English.

  ‘How many of you are left?’ Kit shot the question at him.

  ‘A handful.’

  ‘How many infected?’

  Jenkins gave a shrug.

  Gunner slid a look at him. They both knew there was nothing they could do, that it was too late.

  ‘Quarantine the place. Let no one new in and no one infected out. Burn the bodies of the dead,’ said Kit. It was the most he could offer. He pitied Jenkins. He wanted to help and were he alone he would have stayed, for all the difference it would make, but he was not. He had Gunner and a shipful of men to think of. And he had Kate Medhurst.

  ‘It is too late for that.’

  Kit met Jenkins’s eyes and said nothing. Given his own past he could not condemn any man for a weakness of character, especially not under such circumstances.

  ‘I pity you, sir, but your attitude is despicable,’ said Kate Medhurst quietly.

  ‘I suppose that means a mercy shag is out of the question?’ Jenkins said.

  Kate did not flinch. ‘As I said—despicable.’

  ‘And dead,’ said Kit as his hand tightened upon the handle of his cutlass. He controlled the urge to pull it from its scabbard and hold it against Jenkins’s throat.

  Gunner was already on his feet, poised for action.

  ‘But not by our hand,’ finished Kit, then, to Kate Medhurst and Gunner, ‘Move. We have already spent too long in here.’ Not trusting Jenkins not to attempt some last, defiant, contemptuous action, Kit kept his eye on the man until they were out of the office and making their way back down the corridor. Moving quickly, they retraced their earlier steps across the deserted yard and through the gate.

  The hired horse and gig still waited where they had left it. In silence Kit picked up the reins and began the drive back to St John’s.

  * * *

  ‘So what happens now?’ Kate asked the question after ten minutes of driving during which no one had uttered a word. She was more shaken by what had happened at the fort than she wanted to admit. A whole garrison, wiped out by Yellow Jack.

  One summer, when she was a child, Yellow Jack had come to Tallaholm. Some were taken, some were spared. Kate had been lucky enough to recover. She remembered little of it, but her mother still spoke of how terrible that time had been and how she had nursed Kate. I sat by your side and bathed your body with cold stream water all the nights through to cool the fever. It made her all the more anxious to get home. But she was very aware that there was no British navy ship here on which she could hitch a ride.

  She saw the glance Gunner exchanged with North and a little sliver of apprehension slid into her blood.

  ‘You heard what he said. Your country is sending reinforcements and that will encompass not only the fort, but those frigates that patrol the waters near to Louisiana,’ she said.

  ‘No doubt.’ North did not look round at her, but just kept on driving, eyes forward, expression uncompromising.

  ‘Indeed, many of the British naval frigates in this area use English Harbour as their base. It’s just a matter of time before one comes into port.’

  ‘True. But that time might be weeks or even months.’

  ‘Unlikely,’ she countered.

  ‘Very likely, given that word of the pestilence will have passed through the fleet.’

  ‘I’ll wait,’ she said stubbornly.

  ‘But I will not. Raven leaves Antigua tomorrow, Mrs Medhurst.’

  ‘Fine,’ she said. ‘I am not asking you to delay your journey.’ Indeed, the sooner he was gone the safer she would be.

  He pulled gently at the leather reins wrapped around his hand and brought the horse to a stop. Only then did he look at her, his gaze meeting hers with that searing strength that always made her shiver inside. ‘You are a woman, with no money, no protection and no knowledge of the island. Are you seriously suggesting that you wait here alone?’

  That was exactly what she was suggesting, but when he said it like that it made it sound like the most idiotic idea she had ever had in her life; when she knew that honour belonged to her decision to attack an unnamed ship with a raven circling its masts.

  ‘Next you will be telling me you are planning on staying at Fort Berkeley with Jenkins.’

  ‘Don’t be absurd!’ she snapped. ‘I am not a fool.’

  ‘Then do not act like one.’

  She glared at him. ‘Are you offering to take me home to Louisiana, Captain North?’

  ‘No.’ No superfluous explanation.

  ‘So just what is it that you are proposing, Mr Clever?’

  ‘We take you with us to England. Admiralty will put you on a frigate escorting one of the convoys bound for America.’

  ‘England?’ She could not believe what she was hearing. ‘You expect me to travel all the way to England and hope that I may find my way back from there?’

  ‘There is nothing of hope involved. I will ensure that you obtain safe passage.’

  She stared at him with utter incredulity. ‘But that will take months.’

  ‘So will waiting here amidst the pestilence for a frigate to drop anchor.’

  What he said made sense, yet the thought of sailing thousands of miles to England...and with him of all people... She bit her lip, torn between the devil and the deep blue sea.

  His gaze held hers, unwavering and steadfast, cool and perceptive, stroking all of the nerves to tingle in her body. ‘And the longer you stay here the greater your risk of contracting Yellow Jack, or carrying it with you when you eventually do find passage back to Louisiana.’

  To her children, to those she loved, to a community that was already struggling against hardship and feared the disease more than any other.

  ‘The choice is yours to make, Mrs Medhurst. There is a place for you on Raven should you wish to accept it.’

  But the reality was that her choice was already made. Kate could not risk either her children or Tallaholm. So she swallowed her pride and quashed the trepidation that gnawed deep in her belly. ‘You are right, sir,’ she admitted even though it galled her to do so. ‘I would be a fool, indeed, if I did not accept your offer.’

  He gave a nod and said nothing more. The rest of the journey continued in silence.

  * * *

  Only once they reached the main street of the town did he speak again, addressing his words to Reverend Dr Gunner. ‘I will return the gig and do what must be done.’ From his pocket he produced a purse that looked heavy with coin and threw it to the priest. ‘Find Mrs Medhurst a dressmaker.’

  ‘That will not be necessary, sir!’ She felt her cheeks flush with warmth. Only husbands and lovers bought women clothes.

  His gaze met hers, then dropped lower from her face to slowly sweep the length of her body before returning to her eyes once more. It was not a leer—a leer she could have handled with a smart put down—but his usual cool, intense, serious appraisal made her blush glow even hotter.

  ‘The Atlantic is a harsh and cold environment. Your attire will not suffice.’

  Always so cold and clinical, and yet there was something at the back of his eyes that hinted he was not as devoid of passion and feeling as he would
have the world believe. Something dark that made the memory of his strong arms around her and the feel of their bodies pressed tight and close whisper between them, that made her remember the tenderness of his fingers against her face. The butterflies danced in her stomach. Her whole body seemed to quiver.

  ‘And as Gunner is clearly a man of the cloth your reputation should not be so damaged.’

  Pulling her gaze from his, she looked at Gunner, who smiled a sheepish smile. She glanced down to her bare toes next to the dusty leather of North’s boots.

  ‘Very well. But your money is a loan only. I will pay you back every last coin.’

  ‘If you wish.’

  Cool as a business deal to any observer, but what she felt inside was a heat of embarrassment and awareness of a dangerous sensual connection. It made her manner cold almost to the point of rudeness.

  ‘I do, sir.’ She climbed down from the gig and walked away without so much as a backward glance.

  She did not want to think about being enclosed upon Raven for the entirety of a transatlantic journey with him. She did not want to think of the dangers that posed for her. Because if she thought of the enormity of it the fear would overwhelm her. Even now, the seeds of panic stirred in her belly. She stifled them and followed Gunner into the crowded, dusty market square of St John’s.

  And then, through the mass and press of bodies and woven baskets filled with brightly coloured produce, she saw a face that she recognised and she smiled. Maybe God had heard her prayers, after all.

  With one eye on the face she bided her time and, as the crowd pressed closer, she slipped away from Gunner.

  * * *

  ‘What do you mean, you lost her?’ Kit raised an eyebrow and stared in disbelief at his friend.

  ‘Exactly that,’ replied Gunner calmly. ‘One minute she was right there behind me, the next she was gone without a sign. It is market day. The square could not get any busier.’ He paused before adding, ‘You do not think that she might have been abducted?’

  ‘Again?’ Kit said the word with heavy scepticism. They both knew that Kate Medhurst’s presence aboard Coyote had not been through abduction.

  ‘She did not seem so enamoured with accompanying us to England.’

  ‘Hardly surprising.’

  ‘Had she refused, would you really have left her here alone?’

  Kit did not answer that one. ‘There is another ship newly anchored. She is flying the Stars and Stripes and listing herself as a merchantman, but with a name like Gator and the fact that she is here at all, means she is more probably a pirate making the most of the fort’s misfortune.’

  ‘There are pirates in town...? We need to find her fast.’ Gunner understood what that meant. That American or not, men newly come ashore were always looking for a woman. And Kate Medhurst stood out from the rest of the women in this place.

  ‘You cover the east side, I will take the west.’

  Gunner nodded.

  Together they set out across the square.

  * * *

  ‘Bill Linder!’ Kate called the name clear and strong before the two men could head into the tavern.

  Linder stopped and glanced round at her. ‘I thought I heard a home-grown Louisiana voice. Well, if it ain’t little Kate Medhurst.’

  ‘You sly old dog, Billy Boy,’ the other shorter man, built like a bear, said with a lascivious tone. ‘You didn’t tell me that you had a girl here.’

  ‘I’m not his girl,’ corrected Kate and moved the small distance down the lane towards them. ‘I am allied with Jean Lafitte the same as the two of you. Aboard Coyote.’

  ‘La Voile sails Coyote,’ said the bear man.

  ‘True,’ she said, and thought it better to keep quiet about Tobias’s death for now. ‘You still with McGaw on Gator?’

  ‘I sure am. She’s out in the bay.’ He looked at her with a puzzled expression. ‘What you doing here, Kate Medhurst?’

  ‘Looking for a ship home to Louisiana. Fast.’

  ‘You sound like you’re escaping someone.’

  ‘Maybe,’ she conceded. ‘Can you help me?’

  ‘Can I help you? Honey, what did I always say to old Wendell? You have come to the right man, Kate Medhurst.’

  She gave a sigh of relief at his words.

  He smiled and she saw his gaze meander down over the dusty muslin of her dress, lingering a little too long on the fichu that covered her décolletage, before dropping lower to where the wind had moulded her skirt with a degree of indecency to her legs, all the way down to her dirty bare feet. There was something in that gaze that made her realise that Bill Linder’s attitude towards her had changed. Something that was all too obvious when his eyes met hers again.

  ‘How’s your wife, Mary, and your two little ones?’ she said, trying to keep things a bit safer and casting her mind back across the years to the last time she had seen this man.

  ‘They’re good.’

  ‘Please pass on my best wishes to her.’

  ‘I don’t think so. She’s the jealous type.’ The words made her feel uncomfortable and set a warning tattoo beating in her breast.

  ‘She’s got nothing to be jealous of. You were a good friend of my husband’s, Bill Linder. I thought you were my friend, too.’

  ‘I was. And I am. But you see—’ he leaned in closer, as if to share a secret ‘—I always did have an eye for Wendell’s pretty little wife. And Mary knew it.’

  She stared at him, shocked at what she was hearing.

  His fingers brushed lazily against the tie of her fichu as if he were toying with the idea of loosening it.

  ‘What the heck do you think you are doing?’ She slapped his hand away, but in that moment he changed from lazy insolence to fast striking snake, grabbing hold of her wrist and twisting it up behind her back at the same time as the weight of his body barrelled her into the nearby shady alleyway.

  ‘I think I’m doing what I’ve waited a long time to do, little lady.’ His hands moved over her body, his fingers rough against the still-tender wound on her side, searching for her pocket and finding it empty save for a handkerchief.

  ‘She got a purse of money?’ his bear companion asked.

  ‘Nope,’ said Bill Linder.

  ‘Oh, dear,’ said the bear man. ‘She’s going have to find some other way of paying her passage on Gator. I suppose we could pay her coin for her and in return...’ He licked his thick dry lips slowly and deliberately.

  ‘In return...’ said Bill Linder with a grin that showed his uneven teeth.

  The stench of unwashed men was strong. She could see the grime caked upon their sun-baked skin and feel the length of Bill Linder’s dirty fingernails cutting into her wrist.

  He threw her further into alleyway so that she stumbled against its wall.

  A quick glance told her it was blind-ended. No way out other than through the two pirates from Gator.

  She backed away, giving herself a little distance, and pulled up her skirts.

  ‘That’s right, darlin’, you get yourself nice and ready for us,’ Linder drawled and began to unbuckle the belt of his trousers.

  ‘Oh, I’m ready for you, boys,’ she said, pulling the pistol and knife from their leather holsters on her thighs. ‘You wait till Lafitte hears about this. He’ll hang you both by your scrawny necks.’

  ‘Lafitte ain’t going hear nothing. Put the weapons down, darlin’, before you get hurt,’ Linder sneered.

  ‘You back out of this alleyway right now, or I will shoot.’

  ‘And then what?’ Linder asked.

  The two men exchanged an amused grin with one another.

  ‘We got you all to ourselves, Kate, honey. Haven’t you heard? The navy boys are down with Yellow Jack. Ain’t no one going to come and help you.’


  Linder’s eyes held a nasty glint and the bear man laughed as the two of them closed towards her.

  Kate aimed the pistol...

  ‘There you are, Mrs Medhurst. I wondered where you had got to.’ North’s voice was smooth and quiet and cool, but its authority cut through the situation in the alleyway.

  Her finger hesitated upon the trigger.

  ‘She’s already taken, friend. You’re interfering in something that’s got nothing to do with you. Go get your own.’ The two men turned with a swagger, ready to chase off the intruder come to spoil their fun, but what they saw checked their cocky attitude.

  North was standing there, his faded leather coat pulled back to show one hand resting on the handle of his pistol and the other on his cutlass. In the shade of the alleyway his eyes were black as the devil’s. With his dark shirt and his buckskin breeches, his battered tricorne hat and the large black-feathered bird that perched silent and beady-eyed upon his left shoulder, he looked every inch what he was: downright dangerous.

  He stood there silent, still, his stance relaxed yet poised for action, and emanating such an air of threat that even Kate felt a shiver of fear go through her.

  ‘You are mistaken, gentlemen. You see, this is everything to do with me...given that this lady is under my protection.’

  It was his eyes, she thought; there was something in them, something deadly, like the eyes of a shark. Linder and the bear man could feel it, too. She could sense their sudden discomfort and suspicion and fear and see it in the way they glanced at one another.

  ‘I don’t think we’ve been introduced, sir,’ said Linder.

  ‘Think very carefully about what you are asking for,’ said North.

  The raven cawed as if to mock the men.

  ‘Merde,’ she heard the bear man whisper as the penny finally dropped and they realised what they should have known straight away from the sight of both him and the raven. ‘He’s North.’

  ‘Still want that introduction, gentlemen?’ North said quietly.

  ‘Begging your pardon, Captain North. We didn’t realise that the lady was...in your care.’ Linder sounded pathetic.

  ‘We surely did not, sir,’ agreed the bear man. ‘Our apologies.’